


Write my name on your heart

by Harry1981



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry1981/pseuds/Harry1981
Summary: “What are you saying?” asked Thorin, refusing to look up, his voice hollow. Just like Bilbo’s heart.“I am saying that I am done, Thorin,” Bilbo said, careful to not let his hurt show in his voice. He needed to be strong to do this, he could not let his emotions overpower him now, not when he had made a decision, “I am saying that I refuse to be the second. I am saying that I cannot do this anymore, Thorin. Not anymore.”********Heavy Angst. One-shot.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Write my name on your heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure angst in 2k words. I was listening to "Love the way you Lie (Part II)" on repeat and this came out. I am warning you, this has no comfort. At all.

The sky was roaring with thunder and rain, the clouds parting open to drench the world around in a downpour that could rival the best of floods. It was dark and the splash against the walls and glasses sounded like a cry, a deep throat guttural cry from within. It was begging to be allowed in, inside the house or just being free to spill all over. Bilbo could feel the storm brewing within him. He could feel the dampness on his cheeks, his hands shaking with each passing second, his heart hammering, crying for him not to do it. He could find a way out of this, he always did, he was the smart one, the calm one. The one who knew how to handle life. The one who knew what it took to keep a family together.

And that precisely was the problem.

He let it go, he always let it go. He let things pass, he laughed at his discomfort, he hugged the pillows on cold nights and reassured himself that the next day would be better. He ate the cold dinner alone on the table, sipping wine that was meant for two. He put on a smile on days he could not bear to live. He stood beside or beside him, and he never truly looked back.

Even now, he just sat there, his head in his hands, his whole body crouching. It broke Bilbo’s heart into a million pieces, the pain searing through his body but he could not take it, not anymore. Perhaps a year ago, he would have let it pass and talked about it, perhaps a new packet of tea or a collection of antique books would have made him happy, might have been a promise that everything would be fine.

“What are you saying?” asked Thorin, refusing to look up, his voice hollow. Just like Bilbo’s heart.

“I am saying that I am done, thorin,” Bilbo said, careful to not let his hurt show in his voice. He needed to be strong to do this, he could not let his emotions overpower him now, not when he had made a decision, “I am saying that I refuse to be the second. I am saying that I cannot do this anymore, Thorin. Not anymore.”

Thorin looked up, and it took every power in every cell of his body to stop himself from flinging to Thorin, and wrapping the bigger man in his arms, slowly running his hands through his hair and soothing him, telling him everything would be okay. His eyes were red, and he looked more broken than Bilbo had ever seen him. But Thorin had not seen him when he had spent nights curled up in the bathroom, crying his heart out and wishing for a release. He had not been there when Bilbo needed a kiss on his forehead and an assurance that everything would be fine. He had never seen Bilbo break down and he had never been there to pick him back up.

“Why?” and Thorin's voice broke, and bilbo had to look outside to stop the tears from spilling.

“Because you are never home,” Bilbo said, his voice cracking, “because you had made a promise, Thorin and you have failed to keep it. Because I am not important to you anymore-”

“-Don’t say that-”

“-Because when we talk it’s about Smaug and how he is making another chance on Erebor, about how many sales you could have lost, about how much hatred you have for that man in your heart. Because I am just another replaceable piece in your life and because I was gone for a week and you did not notice.”

“I was occupied!”

Bilbo huffed, shaking his head, “you always are,” he whispered, the last of his resolve breaking slowly, “You always are, Thorin. You and Balin and Dwalin- you are always busy with work that is non-negotiable, you are always occupied with a call. Your bed is only to bring YOU comfort, your house is to bring you sustenance and shelter, no more. And I cannot do this. Not anymore.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said it like a prayer, and the next moment he was in front of him, towering, his eyes big and wide and pleading, raw and open as he had once been, his hands clasping Bilbo’s own, the tight that was one warm but only cold, “Please. I...I made a mistake. I will make it better, I promise- we can go away. Erebor, Erebor will wait, we will make it work, you can’t, I just, it’s us, Bilbo, please.”

His voice broke, and a new set of tears spilt from Bilbo’s eyes. He did not even try to hide it, because this was not easy for him and he did not want to hide it from Thorin. It was not easy for him, he could not pretend that he was not affected. Bilbo shook his head pushing back his hand and watching Thorin break all over again.

They had been together for ages- since High school. Through college, through Bungo and Belladonna’ death, through the fire at Thorin’s home and those years on the streets for Durins, through Thorin’s reclamation of Erebor. They had grown together, but now Bilbo could not recognize the man in front of him. He knew nothing about him and Thorin barely knew him.

Bilbo looked down, at his hand. The platinum band on his hand. A promise, an engagement that never came to fruition. A wedding that was continued to be pushed for a further date. Something that was never going to happen now.

Bilbo pulled the ring from his fingers. His finger felt lighter, colder, unnatural, and just not right. He pushed it on Thorin’s arms, refusing to look up.

“I can’t,” whispered Bilbo, letting his tears fall.

Thorin let out a choking sound, and the next moment he was on his knees, his arms wrapped around Bilbo’s waist, his head buried into Bilbo’s stomach.

“Thorin,” Bilbo tried to say, trying to push him away, “Please, don’t make this harder, I am begging you.”

“Bilbo, I love you,” cried Thorin, tears falling from his eyes, “I love you, please, I can't, I can’t do this without you. I need you, please, Bilbo, i...”

Whatever he was to say drowned as a sob escaped him and Bilbo found his hands settling into Thorin’s dark mane. He let the tears fall, down his cheeks, leaving a trail to his shoulders and perhaps even on Thorin’s head.

“I love you too,” Bilbo whispered, loud enough for just Thorin to hear, “But I can’t stay. Not anymore. Please, Thorin, leave me.”

“I will make this better,” promised Thorin, those blue eyes looking up in promise, “I will make it better. We will be okay, Bilbo, please give me another chance. Just one chance, Bilbo, please, I am begging you, just one...please.”

Bilbo shook his head, closing his eyes but the tears yet found a way to escape. He knew that if he stayed he would eventually relent. He could not, not anymore. He needed to get away, away from Thorin, away from the Durins, away from all of it.

“I am sorry,” croaked Bilbo, pushing Thorin away. He tried to hold on tighter but to no avail. Bilbo walked back, feeling the hands around his waist loosen, fall back. His whole body was shaking from the cries, and so was Thorin’s.

All it needed was one look to change it all. If he decided to look down and watch Thorin fall apart Bilbo would throw everything out of the window and stay.

But he could not stay. Not anymore.

“I am sorry,” he whispered and turned. He ignored Thorin’s cries. He ignored the loud beating of his heart. He ignored the house he had so lovingly set up for him and Thorin. He ignored the sound of Thorin hitting the floor and the experiences he had had in the house. He ignored the memories of laughter in the kitchen and meetings in the hallways, and he picked up the car keys. He walked out as the thunder rumbled.

The cold rain fell on his face, his tears mixing up. He ignored the rain worming its way all over his body, leaving him drenched. He ignored the thunder as he pushed open the door and turned the key. He let the cold settle into his soul, to his very bones as he steered the wheel. He let the tears fall as he drove away.

The rain cackled outside. It was pouring heavily. The road was dangerous. It was slippery. He knew it, objectively. But when his skin tingled and his hands shook, when his eyes were watered and he could barely see, when all that he could think of was what he was leaving behind and what awaited him, Bilbo hardly cared.

So he did not notice. He did not notice the truck. He did not notice the slippery road and the valley on the other side of the road. He did not notice losing his control, not until it was too late.

* * *

_Six months later_

The sky was clear, the birds chirping at a distance. The earlier light shower had left the grass and the soil spreading its aroma all over the place and it warmed bilbo’s heart. He sat on the porch, a cup of tea in his hands. All around he could see greenery having the best of their times and by the nearby stream, he could hear families having the time of their lives.

It cramped his heart whenever he heard the laughter of families around. It was a constant gnawing pain, a reminder of a life he had once lead, but Bilbo pushed it away. He had to, he needed to move on. Whatever life he had led before was gone, and this was him now.

Bilbo Baggins fo Bag End, the Shire. The owner of a Bed n Breakfast, of a large estate that had an apple orchard and a stream, where families came over for little getaways, where couples stole away some weekends and some college students came for a search for the rumoured hidden deer in the woods close by. His days were simple, spent in cooking and fussing, two things which he loved and earned him enough. He had enough to get him by for the rest of his life, and Bilbo had no intention fo working any more.

He was asked to rest as well. The accident six months ago had not left him unscratched. On the best of his days, he needed a cane to walk. Pain erupted in his head sometimes, and bilbo often lost the track of time. He had stayed in the hospital for a month and had it not been for his cousins, Bilbo would never have been able to get back on his feet.

With a sigh, Bilbo finished the last of his tea. He needed to get up and stop reminiscing. There was much work to do and as lovely it sounded to sit outside, he had some work to do.

Just as he was gathering his cup and saucer, the wooden gate was pulled open. Bilbo stopped looking up and his heart stopped when his eyes landed on the figure. Tall, dark, handsome, a good few inches taller than Bilbo himself and dark black hair and bluest eyes Bilbo had ever seen. He looked sad and happy at once, and there was something indescribable on his face.

“Bilbo,” he whispered and his voice sent shivers down Bilbo’s spine, “I have been looking for you.”

Bilbo did not say anything, just continued to blink owlishly at the man.

“I,” he sighed, running a hand through his long hair, “I tried your cellphone. I contacted your cousins, they refused to budge. It took the combined effort of the whole Company to find where you were. I should have guessed, Bag End, but...you know me.”

There was much of self-depreciation in his voice. He chuckled sadly, looking down. His eyes were getting teary as he looked up. Bilbo still did not speak.

“It’s a sorry excuse, I know, but I...Bilbo, Erebor is nothing without you. The home is nothing without you by my side. I am nothing without you. You, Bilbo Baggins, are the best thing that happened to me and I was a fool, an absolute fool to forget that. I know what I have done is unforgivable, but please, give me one chance. I am yours, for as long as you would have me.”

As Bilbo continued to blink owlishly, he said, “it’s not a trap. Dis is handling Erebor and honestly, I couldn’t care less about that, or, or Smaug or anyone else. I know, I messed up, big time but please, can we try again? I will do whatever you want, whatever you need, God, Bilbo, these last few months- I love you. And I know that you would hate me right now but please.”

That snapped Bilbo out of his speechlessness, “I am very sorry, but, um who are you?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide, “I...I know I hurt you but please don’t do this to me.”

“No I am very serious, sir,” Bilbo said with as much certainty as he could.

The man’s look could break hearts and Bilbo felt his own chest contract in pain, “Bilbo, it’s me, Thorin. I...what?”

Bilbo blinked, “We know each other?”

“Yes!”

Bilbo wanted to fight when the reality crashed around him, “Oh dear, good sir, I am extremely sorry. You must not have been in contact for the past six months. See, there was an accident? Some six months ago? My memory is all...muddled up.” Bilbo chuckled, the loss still lingering at the back of his head, “I...I don’t really remember a lot of things. I am really sorry, you look like a perfectly good fellow but, um, I have no idea who you are.”

The man, Thorin, remained frozen in spot. Bilbo shifted awkwardly as the man continued to stare at him. His stare made something stir within Bilbo, but he was already in therapy for a lot of things and he did not need old flames mixed into it. No sir, thank you very much.

“Um, would you like to come in? “ said Bilbo clutching his cane, “I am truly sorry for this, but-”

“Six months ago?”

Bilbo stopped, staring at the man with wide eyes, “I am sorry?”

“You had an accident six months ago?” he asked, his voice blank, “A rainy night?”

Bilbo shrugged, “That's what they tell me. It’s not like I remember anything.”

The man drew in a sharp breath, staggering backwards, his eyes fixed on Bilbo. He shifted awkwardly as Thorin looked broken.

“You can come in,” Bilbo offered with what he hoped was a smile. He had no idea what they would do once he got inside, but it was only polite to offer.

“I need to go,” croaked the man, “I...Bilbo, i...I will be back.”

With that ominous promise, Thorin was gone. Bilbo blinked at the retreating figure. After a moment, Bilbo shook his head and picked up his cup, retreating inside his home. As he settled down his cup and saucer in the kitchen sink, Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder who exactly the man was.

And he certainly could not figure out why his chest hurt so much just thinking of the man.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I have no idea what's wrong with me either.


End file.
